


The Love that Dare Not Speak Its Name

by Mireio



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Emotional Sex, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, and prompto is too, everything is temporary, noctis is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9920402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireio/pseuds/Mireio
Summary: “Dude, sunrises are so pretty,” he says, gazing out the window while Noctis shuffles slowly with slight in-coordination to get his clothes on. “Hey,” Prompto says, and his voice sounds far away and distracted, “can I take a picture of you? It’s been so dark and dreary everywhere else, it’d be nice to have you in some nice lighting for once.”Noctis doesn’t get the obsession. There are more interesting things to photograph.





	

The shutter-click of a camera greets Noctis more mornings than not. While it used to startle him awake, he only dully registers the sound now. Prompto has so many of these embarrassing pictures, Noctis doesn't care anymore. He's heard it all; "Noct, you seriously drool in your sleep?" or Prompto's obnoxious crowing laughter, "Check your mouth for spiders, it was open so wide, it was hilarious."

 

So this time when he hears it, his brain groggily wakes at the upsetting sound, and another _click-whurr_ captures the disgruntled pout he makes. He hears the soft sound of subdued giggling - who is that, his brain sleepily wonders? - and Noctis has enough. He turns over with a pitiful, whining moan to ignore the attention and go back to sleep. He's just begun to doze off again when a hand shakes his shoulder. He furrows his brows in frustration - _click-whurr_ \- and steels himself further. Whoever's trying to rouse him will have to try harder, he's far too comfortable. This time fingers pinch his cheek and he outright growls. The laughter is louder this time, and that _does_ slightly startle Noctis awake.

 

Oh.

 

He squints as much as he can against the morning light, but it's no use. The menace in question is Prompto, and his grin is just as blinding as the annoying sunlight tearing through the motel curtains.

 

"What," Noctis growls out, voice gravelly with sleep.

 

Prompto happily snaps another photo of his just-waken face. Noctis' eye used to twitch in annoyance and he would reach out, trying to slap the camera out of his hands or take it, but now it’s such a common occurrence to be woken to, Noctis just sighs and plops his head back down.

 

"You know," he mumbles against the sheets - ew, he drooled again - "-you're gonna run out of memory real fast if you keep taking pictures of dumb things like this."

 

"Good morning, Highness," Prompto teases. "And it's not dumb! You're so photogenic, Noct." _Click-whurr_. Noctis' eye _does_  twitch a little that time. "I'm a professional here, okay? Trust my judgement. I know what looks good." He pauses then. "Or, more like, I know how to make a handbag out of a cow."

 

"What?"

 

"I probably butchered that metaphor a bit." Prompto cut himself off with a howling laugh. "Hey Noct, get it? _Butcher?"_

 

These guys. Noctis can't stand them sometimes.

 

"Real funny," he grunts as he sits up, already hearing Gladiolus' heavy footsteps coming as an impending doom to wake him. "Are you saying I'm a cow?"

 

Prompto grins. "A really, really fit cow."

 

Noctis would make a joke about how he could say the same for Prompto, but calling him a 'cow' would probably be a little cruel given Prompto's sensitivity about his weight. Even now, thin as a twig with nothing but sinewy muscle for weight, Noctis notices him poke at stretchmarks in mirrors or suck in his belly on the occasion when he’s shirtless around the guys.

 

Even Noctis knows when things are in bad taste. He settles for rolling his eyes. Gladiolus busts the door open and without even looking at him, before Gladiolus can take the breath to start scolding him Noctis groans out, “I’m up, I’m up!”

 

Gladiolus grunts in affirmation and leaves them to it. Prompto’s cheerful as ever as he ushers Noctis out of the comfort of the motel bed.

 

“Dude, sunrises are so pretty,” he says, gazing out the window while Noctis shuffles slowly with slight incoordination to get his clothes on. “Hey,” Prompto says, and his voice sounds far away and distracted, “can I take a picture of you? It’s been so dark and dreary everywhere else, it’d be nice to have you in some nice lighting for once.”

 

Noctis doesn’t get the obsession. There are more interesting things to photograph.

 

He looks up as he hops into his pants, shaking one leg to tug the waist up.

 

“Please?”

 

“Yeah,” Noctis sighs. “You know, you hardly have to ask this point. I know you’re always going to ask.” He throws his arms through the arms of his jacket. “And you know I’m always going to say yes.”

 

Prompto grins then, but it’s subdued, like he’s merely content. A sleepy little thing, not quite busting at the seams with excitement.

  
“Cool,” he breathes.

 

\--

 

Noctis doesn’t hide his wide yawn as he and Prompto shuffle downstairs into the cheap motel lobby where Ignis is turning in the key to the room and Gladiolus shoulders their bags with ease. He’s grateful they stopped in a _town_ for once, rather than camping out on cold hard ground. There’s something pleasing about being outdoors, but every now and then, Noctis did miss a regular bed. Of course, he had to share his side with Prompto last night. Prompto insisted he wouldn’t fit on a bed with Gladiolus and his huge girth, and Ignis was the least likely to fight with the idea of sleeping beside the hulking man. Get him tired enough and Ignis will give on just about anything.

 

Noctis is far from unused to sharing close quarters while sleeping, but still. He cracks his neck. Prompto is a sprawler.

 

“It’s because you’re a cover hog,” Prompto mumbles. “If you get the blankets I might as well sleep any damn way I please.”

 

It’s a fair compromise, as long as Noctis isn’t left in the cold of the motel air.

 

“Awake, sleeping prince?” Ignis grouses. Noctis grunts in acknowledgement. “Shall we get going then?” he addresses Gladiolus, who nods and starts herding them out. He gives a slight yank on Prompto’s camera strap when he glues himself behind the eye lens and snaps pictures of the crummy lobby.

 

“It’s something to remember!” Prompto protests. “Listen, there’s a lifestyle to living motel to motel. Don’t you think it’s kind of cool?”

 

“Oh yes,” Ignis says, “I do love springy mattresses too small for two grown men to sleep comfortably on.” Okay, maybe Ignis is a _little_  less passive about sleeping with Gladiolus than Prompto had thought.

 

“Not to mention,” Noctis pipes, “the crappy food.”

 

“Powdered eggs,” Gladiolus adds.

 

“Okay, spoilsports, you’ll see how damn magical our time here has been in hindsight,” Prompto grumbles. “Once I develop these awesome photos. There’s an aesthetic to crappy motels and never-ending road trips.”

 

Gladiolus teases Prompto on his interests – “You’re infatuated with greaser girls, I don’t think you have a say in aesthetics.” – but Noctis remains silent.

 

_Never-ending road trips, huh?_

 

It’s not unusual for Prompto to be happy about that thought. About forever being on the road with his three best friends, seeing the sights of the world and watching his dream of becoming a photographer coming to fruition. Noctis himself wonders what it would be like for this to be everlasting. How much more he could enjoy this trip, if there were no destination. No deadline. No future he was predestined to be responsible for.

 

How nice it would be, to live as only the four of them.

 

_Click-whurr._

  
  
“Prompto, what the hell?”

 

Prompto grins. He’s walking backwards with his camera, the big black eye staring at Noctis.

 

“Sorry buddy. I had to capture whatever it is you’re thinking about.” Noctis swallows a lump in his throat. “Something must be frying your brain hard to be concentrated like that.” He shrugs and turns back around so he doesn’t trip, and stares down almost fondly at the picture he just took. “Just for the record, it’s a nice look on you. But don’t let it eat you up.”

 

Noctis decides to take it to heart, and banishes the thought of “forever” from his mind, walking slightly faster to catch up with them rather than trailing behind.

 

Prompto shuts his camera off just as Noctis glances over his shoulder to look.

 

\--

 

Something about early morning drives as the sun sleepily rises over the cover of mountains is eternally pleasing to Prompto.

 

“Ignis,” he nudges, quietly as to not spoil the content atmosphere of the morning. Everyone’s been unusually quiet, but not unpleasantly so. “Can you pull over up ahead there?”

 

Ignis doesn’t bother to ask why.

 

Prompto twists around as they roll to stop and Noctis unbuckles himself, sliding out.

 

“Just Noct this time,” Prompto says when Gladiolus starts to move from his seat. Prompto grins. “Sorry guys.” Ignis doesn’t look offended, but Gladiolus raises a brow, puzzled, at Noctis.

 

Prompto doesn’t wear his usual boisterous grin as he directs Noctis where to stand. He’s concentrated, and Noctis doesn’t feel the need to comment this time around while Prompto frowns and touches his arm, moving him forward or backward, to the left or to the right. He’s got a look like a man on a mission and Noctis just lets him do his thing.

 

Artists, man. They’re complicated types.

 

“You want a pose?” he asks, carefully, like he’s worried about breaking whatever focus Prompto seems to have.

 

Prompto grunts, an unusual response from him as he fiddles with his camera settings, and raising it to face the sun, only to put it back down and change them again. He waves his hand around noncommittally. “No, you don’t have to. Just do whatever. Do what’s natural.” He raises the camera lens to the sky again and seems happy this time. He smiles, soft around the edges in the early light. His freckles are gold against the peach of his sun-kissed skin.

 

Noctis thinks Prompto would make for a better subject, right here, at this moment.

 

“You look great, just look wherever you want. You don’t have to look at me this time.” He gestures toward the sunrise, gradually lighting up the area. “We’re here for the sunrise, look at that.”

 

So Noctis does. When Prompto directs him to, he’s just standing there, but for some reason it makes him melt. The colors relax him, the pink sky slowly fading into gold and orange, the slightest smattering of clouds reflecting warmth back at the sleepy sun. He’s normally always asleep until late, so it’s not common for him to enjoy them. When Prompto directs him, however, he does forget he’s there for just the moment it takes to admire it. He leans back against the wooden railing Prompto had herded him against, hands relaxed at his sides, face turned toward the source of the light.

 

“Gorgeous, man.”

 

Noctis startles slightly. “You already take it?” he asks.

 

“Took five,” Prompto says, smiling that quiet little smile again. “You didn’t hear it? C’mon.”

 

He waves Noctis back, and Noctis frowns slightly. “Wait, you just wanted me? Why don’t you get in a picture?”

 

Prompto flushes at that. “I…hm. I had only thought to capture _you.”_   He laughs awkwardly. “I don’t wanna mess up the picture.”

 

Noctis shakes his head. “Dude, no. Seriously, get over here.”

 

Prompto hesitates for once, but then he grins and sets up his camera, hurrying before the sun rises too quickly and make the sky too bright. He bounds over to Noctis. He gives him this _look_ , and Noctis thinks he can read him pretty well, and throws an arm around Prompto’s neck. He feels Prompto’s hand come to rest just on the small of his back as the camera goes off, capturing Prompto’s sedated smile and Noctis’ melty look when he leans ever so slightly against him.

 

“Damn,” Prompto says once he immediately investigates his new picture. “That’s like. Picturesque dude. Look.” He shows Noctis, and something about the photo strikes him as distinctly _romantic_ , and he chokes up on his words a little.

 

“Perfect,” he manages, and Prompto grins.

 

“Right?” He’s staring at it again, and Noctis feels embarrassed for some reason. “Perfect,” he repeats.

 

They return to the car, Prompto with a slight skip in his step, like he’s accomplished what’s been worrying his mind and is free to be his loud self once more. Noctis trails slightly behind, but his friend’s happiness is contagious and he feels himself smiling endlessly like an idiot.

 

“Done with the honeymoon shot?” Gladiolus teases. Prompto scoffs.

 

“Just mad because I didn’t let you in?” He grins as he plops ungracefully into the passenger’s seat, missing the awkward exchange of looks between Noctis and Gladiolus in the back seat. “You would have blocked out the sun, with that huge hulking frame of yours.”

 

“I doubt he’s truly offended,” Ignis says, starting up the car once more and pulling off the side of the road. “But it’s odd of you not to get a group shot.”

 

Prompto flushes at the ears and he grumbles down at his camera. “I’ll get a group shot of everyone later, okay? Just, in different lighting.”

 

Ignis hums. “It’s no issue.”

 

Noctis wants to ask why the lighting makes a difference, but he finds he really, truly, doesn’t want to know.

 

\--

 

Prompto’s acting weird. At least, that’s what Noctis says, but then Prompto counters that _he’s_  the one acting weird. There’s this terse silence between them, that’s been building ever since this morning, and it’s increasingly stressing Noctis out.

 

Ignis seems to note the tension and separates them accordingly. He tries to get them to talk privately to him about if anything’s wrong, but there’s nothing to say. Gladiolus skips trying to spill any feelings and separates them by giving them jobs. Prompto, help Ignis set up camp. Noctis, help me fix up the car.

 

Noctis stumbles back to camp covered in grease and little splatters of oil, his hands undesirably dirty and tired. Prompto’s sprawled out near the campfire, worn out from doing much more work than he’s used to.

 

Ignis coddles them, just a bit.

 

He doesn’t even try to talk Noctis into cooking, nor does he send Prompto or anyone out to get raw ingredients he wants. He sits them down, and fusses over Noctis while his soup cooks, getting to work wiping the unsightly oil and grease from his face. Prompto laughs from his place on the ground while he watches Ignis huff over him, and Noctis fixes him with a dry stare that leaves Prompto rolling in the dirt laughing harder. Ignis clicks his tongue when Noctis starts laughing too, disrupting the work scrubbing the grease off his cheek.

 

He gives up cleaning him, but smiles to himself as he turns to stirring his soup. At least the awkward air has dissipated. Even if they do tend to bond like children.

 

Ignis turns around just in time to watch Noctis kick dirt into Prompto’s hair.

 

\--

 

Noctis knows he’s staring at Prompto, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s a mix of happy as can be, and just plain confused when he looks at him. He knows if he just stares a little longer, takes a little more time, he’ll figure it out. Each time he’s on the cusp of thinking he knows what he might be feeling, Prompto catches him and Noctis looks away and it’s back to square one.

 

Noctis can’t figure out why Prompto would be returning those looks.

 

\--

 

Prompto suggests they stop in another town for the night. He talks Ignis into it, only because Ignis had to do much more work today with Gladiolus and Noctis’ help setting up camp, and no one else is up to driving for the few hours left of daylight. They haven’t made much ground today, setting up camp in the middle of the day for a mission nobody was even up for.

 

It’s the kind of days, Prompto remembers as a kid, that were late mornings followed by warm, lazy afternoons. Perfect for lounging and thinking about nothing at all.

 

It’s not even dark when they stop for the day, but the sun is starting to set.

 

“Hey, Noct.”

 

Prompto touches his elbow. Noctis just smiles.

 

“Sure, Prompto.”

 

\--

 

Ignis and Gladiolus go ahead of them to book a room. Prompto walks Noctis down the road, searching for the perfect spot. He finds a place, the edge of the road with a lake almost mirror-still on the other side.

 

Noctis strolls, comfortable and content to where Prompto probably wants him to stand. He leans up against the fence barricading the rode form the lake, but before he can turn around to face Prompto-

 

“Just like that,” Prompto says. “Stay there.”

 

Noctis sighs and does as he’s told. He leans heavy on his hands, shoulders by his ears as he looks at the water. It’s till and clear, reflecting orange and purple up at him.

 

For once, Noctis isn’t deep in thought, not really. He’s kind of got nothing on his mind.

 

It’s peaceful, thinking about nothing.

 

He registers faintly the click of a camera behind him. He doesn’t wait for instruction, slowly sliding out of his leaning position to turn himself around. He crosses his ankles and leans back. Prompto smiles at his neutral expression.

 

Noctis smirks back, and Prompto’s smile slides off his face, biting his lip.

 

“I’m.” Prompto croaks, lowering the camera. He clears his throat to try again. “…I’m done.”

 

There’s a strange tension again as they walk back together. Prompto’s hands remain firmly grasping his camera, whereas he’s often itching to touch, to fling his arms around Noctis or ruffle his hair.

 

Noctis should feel worried for his friend, but he doesn’t.

 

\--

 

“The rooms are too small,” Ignis sighs. “This motel is outrageously small. They don’t have rooms with two beds.”

 

Noctis shrugs. “We could sleep on the floor. We already would be if we had set up camp.”

 

“Well…” Prompto glances between the three of them. “We’ve got the money, this place is dirt cheap. Let’s just get two rooms? It’s a little unfair to decide who gets a bed and who doesn’t.”

 

There’s a beat, and then Gladiolus shrugs. “Two rooms are almost as much here as one double bedroom from the last place. Doesn’t seem too unreasonable.”

 

“Alright,” Ignis says, wincing as he moves his bag from one shoulder to another. “Who stays with who, then?”

 

Gladiolus reaches over to take Ignis’ bag from his aching shoulder, receiving a soft ‘thanks.’

 

Prompto grins. “You two and us two?” He points between the four of them.

 

Ignis has the decency to flush. “Are you implying something?”

 

“What?” Prompto says in mock-surprise, “noooo.”

 

Noctis stifles a laugh. Gladiolus kicks him in the shin.

 

“Alright then, it’s decided. Have at it, children. Do remember to set your alarm, Noctis; Prompto will never remember.”

 

Noctis gives a mock salute and Prompto huffs in offense.

 

Noctis plucks a key off the counter and he hears Prompto following.

 

“I can set a damn alarm,” Prompto mumbles. Noctis finds it so easy to laugh around him.

 

\--

 

“Those two,” Prompto starts. “They’re awfully domestic, don’tcha think?”

 

Noctis thinks about it as he drops their things and immediately goes to work unlacing his boots. Prompto plops beside him on the bed and does the same.

 

“I guess,” Noctis says. “Dunno. They’ve always sorta been like that, haven’t they.”

 

“Think there’s anything…you know…” Noctis just looks at him. Prompto bobs his head as he waves his hand. “Oh come on. You think anything’s between them?”

 

“Can’t say,” Noctis says, amusement lilting his voice. “I think-“ he yanks off his boot. When Prompto noticeably struggles with his, he grips with both hands and helps him pull it off. “I think they have the sort of relationship we won’t really understand. I don’t think anyone will ever get them.”

 

“Hmmm…” Prompto falls into deep thought, one boot on. Noctis stands up and sets to work taking off his ruddy, oil-reeking clothes. Prompto stares off into space.

 

“Hey,” he says slowly, carefully as Noctis strips off his shirt. “You think…” Prompto licks his lips, and glances up to catch Noctis tossing his shirt over his head. “You think that’s kinda like us?”

 

“What do you mean?” Noctis strolls over – Prompto sees a smudge of oil near his bellybutton, he probably wiped his face with the inside of his shirt earlier – and bends down to help tug off Prompto’s other boot.

 

“I mean- the relationship thing. The complicated relationship thing.” He grunts at a particularly hard tug, yanking his knee up to try and help. “You think we’re like that?”

 

“What, like Ignis and Gladio?”

 

“Not- not like _them_  exactly-“ He kicks Noctis a little in the sternum when his boot finally comes off. “Shit, sorry.” He leans forward to brush off the caked dirt that his boot left on Noctis’ abdomen.

 

He notices Noctis is very, very still. Prompto brushes his thumb idly after the dirt is gone. “I mean, not like what they have. I don’t even know what they have, I don’t think anyone does, except _maybe_  them. But maybe not even them, either.” He looks up, blue eyes looking past Noctis somehow. “I mean, maybe we’ve got something of our own here. Like Ignis and Gladio, they’ve got something nobody else has. And you know, I think we probably have something they don’t have either.”

 

His fingers are very, very warm on Noctis’ stomach. Prompto’s ears are burning.

 

“I mean, it’s just a thought.” That tension is filling the air again, Noctis can sense it. Prompto is chewing his lip as he stares at Noctis’ skin, like his answers will come rising beneath the surface like scar tissue. “That’s not so weird, is it?”

 

Noctis wets his lips, fuck, they feel cracked.

 

“You’re my best friend,” he says unhelpfully.

 

Prompto rolls his eyes and pulls back finally. “Well duh. Nothing’s gonna change that.” He smiles that odd, subdued little smile again, that always twists Noctis’ chest into knots. “I think we’re always gonna be best friends.”

 

Noctis sighs through his nose. “What’s got you like this?”

 

“Dunno,” Prompto mumbles. “I think sunrises get me like this.”

 

“Sunrises, huh.”

 

They fall into an easy sort of silence, like each is indulged in their own thoughts, unaware they’re thinking the same thing. It’s a companionable shared moment.

 

Noctis reaches forward to grab Prompto’s hand and return it to the chilled skin of his stomach. Skinny, pink-tipped fingers twitch there and relax, spreading out to their limit and imbedding warmth into his skin.

 

“Hey Noct,” Prompto says softly.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“…You smell really bad.”

 

Noctis sighs.

 

“You’re a jerk.” For whatever reason, Prompto doubles over in laughter. His fingers never slip from Noctis’ body.

 

\--

 

After a much-needed shower, Noctis steps out of bathroom to find Prompto fiddling with his camera again.

 

“Hey you,” Prompto says, staring upside down, head hanging off the edge of the bed, grinning dopily at Noctis. “All squeaky clean? Did the prince remember to wash behind his ears?”

 

“I’m gonna lift this towel if you don’t quit it,” Noctis teases.

 

“Oh no,” Prompto says dryly, “what a terrible fate. You’ll end me.”

 

“You know, I think Ignis is rubbing off on you more than you care to admit.”

 

Prompto doesn’t look too worried. He sets his camera lovingly off to the side on the bedside table, crossing his hands across his chest. Noctis scrubs down his damp hair with a spare towel.

 

“I half expected you to snap a picture just now.”

 

“Want me to?”

 

“It wouldn’t do for the future king to have such scandalous photos floating around,” Noctis says in amusement. “Or so, Ignis would say.”

 

“Oh, I would keep them to myself.” He beckons Noctis with a finger, and reaches out when he’s within range. His fingers span over his abdomen once more. “Ah, all clean.”

 

Noctis laughs. “What are you doing?”

 

“Dunno. Can’t a bro admire another bro’s mad, dripping six pack?”

 

“Prompto,” Noctis says, trailing his fingers over pink knuckles, “that’s pretty romantic of you.”

 

“Noct, you don’t know romantic.”

 

That gives pause, and Noctis’ belly rises up and down with his breathing under Prompto’s hand.

 

“I guess you’re right.”

 

Prompto moves to take his own clothes off, and Noctis steps back into the bathroom to dress at least into a clean shirt and underwear.

 

It’s dark with only a bedside lamp lighting the cramped room with a sallow yellow color. Prompto settles himself into his preferred side. He hears Noctis pause at the side of the bed.

 

“Dude.”

 

Prompto squints up at him. “What? Get in.”

 

“Prompto, no. You _know_  I prefer the right side.”

 

“Um, my right, or your right?”

 

“The right side when you stand at the end of the bed.” Noctis folds his arms. “The side you’re on. Move over.”

 

“Sorry bro, but I’m already comfortable.”

 

“I _always_ sleep on the right side.”

 

“Right side of what? The tent we normally share?”

 

“Right side of your ass is what. Move. Over.”

 

“Make me.”

 

They stare each other down, and Noctis’ shoulders shake as he starts laughing despite himself.

 

“Really? ‘Make me’? Could you have sounded more like a porno just now?”

 

“I-“ Prompto bursts into laughter. “Shit, you’re right, that’s fucking funny.” He sits up, shuffling to the other side of the bed. “Whatever dude, I don’t even care. Just get in already.”

 

With the spoiled prince satisfied, he happily climbs into his favored spot, on his favored side, facing the wall away from Prompto. There’s a pause and after he’s settled, he feels Prompto shuffle closer. An arm comes worming around his waist in a loose hold and he lifts his head slightly, murmuring, “This okay?”

 

This is a boundary Noctis is sure most best friends don’t normally cross. But it’s so comfortable, so natural, he just hums and nods.

 

He falls asleep easily, Prompto’s honey-wheat breath warm on his neck.

 

\--

 

2:16 a.m.

 

Noctis is awake, and he senses Prompto probably is too. He turns around in Prompto’s hold. He’s drowsy, sure, but he’s not ready to settle down again. Prompto’s eyes flicker open, awake enough to suggest he hadn’t been sleeping deeply either.

 

“Hey,” Prompto whispers.

 

“Hey.”

 

There’s something secretive, protective about the very early morning hours. Something that feels like whatever you do now, there are no repercussions later when the day starts. Something that makes one’s inhibitions loose and comfortable.

 

“I was thinkin’,” Prompto mumbles, voice thick with sleep, “about earlier. Ignis and Gladio, man. I’m sure of it. There’s something there.”

 

Noctis just laughs softly, eyes slipping shut for a few seconds, before opening and focusing again. “You think so?”

 

“Yeah. I’m positive. I’d bet my camera on it.” Prompto’s clear baby blues are searching all over Noctis’ face, unable to settle in one spot.

 

“And us?” Noctis mumbles.

 

“Us?”

 

“Yeah. What do we have?” He slides his hand forward in the limited space between them on the sheets, and feels Prompto lazily slide his hand over his. “We don’t have what they have- and we don’t have what normal people have.”

 

“Hm…” Prompto seems to consider it. “I don’t know what I would call it. But I think, it’s something close to…well. I don’t wanna say.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It’s cheesy.”

 

” _You’re_  cheesy.”

 

“Ugh.” Prompto laughs. “I’m trying to be deep here.”

 

“Well don’t be,” Noctis scolds lightly. “It’s not like you. Just be you. Just say it.”

 

Prompto bites his lip, and Noctis notices how chapped they are.

 

“I guess, we got something like. Soul mates? Even if we were just platonic soul mates. I dunno. It’s like, we were destined to be friends or something. Destined to do stupid shit together.”

 

“That’s true,” Noctis says. “I feel like it’s always inevitable the two of us are going to be dumb together. Thank god for Ignis and Gladio, honestly, no matter how much we tease them.”

 

“Yeah, we’d probably be dead without ‘em.”

 

“…Soul mates, huh?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“What?” Noctis looks rather amused. “I’m curious. What kind of soul mates?”

 

“I mean,” Prompto is blushing hard now. “I don’t know! All of them?”

 

“All of them.”

 

“Just- forget it, God, it’s stupid-“

 

“Hey, wait, don’t roll over, I’m joking-“

 

Noctis tugs him forward, and Prompto flushes.

 

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he whispers. “We could never- nothing would last.”

 

“What wouldn’t last?”

 

“Us. Any of this.” He gestures between them. “Even what we have now. Even this won’t last. You’re gonna become king. You’re gonna inherit responsibility.” His eyes rounded, breaking Noctis’ heart. “You’re gonna get married.”

 

Noctis sighs softly through his nose. Neither of them say anything for a while, and it confirms Prompto’s deep reservations. He lets Noctis pull his head against his chest.

 

“Since none of this will last anyway,” Noctis whispers above him, “don’t you think we should make of the most of the time we’ve got?”

 

Prompto furrows his brows into his chest. He tugs himself back to get a look at his face.

 

“So then what do we have for the time being?” he asks. “What are we then?”

 

Noctis’ eyes slide down to below his eyes, below his nose, and stop at the perfect pink Cupid’s bow of Prompto’s lips.

 

“I think,” he says quietly, like he’ll break the delicate tension in the air, “you were onto something before. We’ll have something I don’t think anyone else will have.”

 

Noctis tilts his head down, and feels Prompto meet him halfway. Their lips touch in the barest of kisses, light enough to be perceived as an accident if either one were to shy away. When neither do, Prompto takes it upon himself to surge forward and kiss him harder. Their lips part with the little telltale _smeck_  of a complete kiss. Noctis mumbles against his lips.

  
  
“It won’t have a name.”

 

Prompto shuts his eyes as gentle little kisses fall all over his face. Wasn’t there something like that in literature, that Prompto had read once?

 

He can’t be bothered to remember.

 

\--

 

3:02 a.m. It’s safe this time in the morning, and it feels everlasting.

 

Like the world outside is still, and they’re free to do whatever.

 

Noctis breaths heavy against his mouth. Everything feels rushed, rough, and kind of sloppy, but Prompto’s pretty sure that suits them just fine. It’s like their tentative confession threw open the floodgates to let them do whatever their minds had been dreaming up for months and years.

 

Prompto felt a little like a toy with the way Noctis was rutting up against him like this, being held in place with a hand on his hip. Noctis slings Prompto’s leg over his hip to grind himself directly between Prompto’s legs, and Prompto tosses his head back with a moaning sigh.

 

It was sudden, and imperfect, and better than Prompto could have hoped for. Their teeth clicked together or their noses bumped when they kissed, and Prompto would end up snickering into his mouth. Noctis would pout, but a swift kiss quickly amended it.

 

“Fuck,” Prompto hisses, hips bucking wantonly against Noctis. “Noct, fuck me.”

 

“I want to,” Noctis growls into his neck. “Fuck, I want to so bad- you feel so good, you’re so-“ He shudders and has to will away his climax, because he wants to savor this longer. Even if they’re going to be dead tired in the morning, he wants to make this last, because the moment feels so delicate. He doesn’t want this to be fleeting, despite the probability that it will be.

 

“Please,” Prompto’s voice trembles.

 

“I can’t.” It’s like lead in his throat to say it. He’s not prepared, he would hurt Prompto otherwise- “I want to, but I don’t- I don’t have anything.”

 

“I do,” Prompto gasps. “I do, I do. Hold on.” He stills Noctis’ desperate rutting, practically shaking himself as he pulls himself out of the bed and digs around frantically in his bed left plopped on the floor. He pulls out a small, half empty bottle, tumbling back into bed with it clutched in his hand. Noctis looks at him, slightly surprised, but mostly with red-rimmed eyes wide in desire.

 

“It’s, you know,” Prompto says, shrugging. “Road trips are lonely. A guy needs _something.”_

Noctis just can’t stop the laugh from bubbling up. How so like Prompto to always think positively, and how like Noctis to be woefully unprepared.

 

“C’mere then,” Noctis says.

 

Prompto scrambles up to him and asks, “You ever done this before?” Noctis honestly shakes his head no. “No problem. Lemme just-“ He shimmies out of his underwear, cringing slightly at the wet spot on the front, and feels embarrassed for Noctis’ eyes to be glued down there like that. He swings a leg over his chest so he’s straddling his abdomen. “This okay?”

 

“I-“ Noctis seems to be choking on words. “It’s. You’re. Okay, yeah, it’s more than okay.” He glances up, blue eyes achingly earnest. “You’re perfect.”

 

Prompto laughs. He looks down at the long expanse of himself, sees his silver stretchmarks everywhere, his body littered with freckles and acne scars and lack of muscle where he wish he had it and says, “No, dude. But you are.”

 

Noctis is shaking his head, but Prompto continues, squirting a helpful amount of lubricant onto the fingers of his dominant hand. He leans on one hand on Noctis’ chest, feels himself flush hot when he can’t quite meet his eyes as he reaches back to feel himself. It’s been a while, so he tightens in anticipation just at the cool liquid, and pushes in.

 

He sighs, like it’s a relief. “Fuuck,” he groans.

 

“That nice?” Noctis asks. He’s not trying to talk dirty, he’s genuinely curious. Prompto steels himself to actually meet his eyes and nod, pink mouth falling open in a soft, huffing gasp.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “Feels really nice.” He rushes a second finger in, winces just barely at the slight burn, but rocks back into nonetheless. He’s a bit of a size queen, so he’s quick to add a third, groaning around it.

 

“Um- Prompto..” He looks down, following Noctis’ gaze to where it falls between his legs, where his hand disappears.

 

“You wanna try it?” he guesses. Noctis nods, quick and excited, smile reaching his eyes like a child wanting to help their mother cook.

 

 _Unless that mother is Ignis,_  Prompto thinks with a soft laugh to himself. Noctis spreads some of the lubricant on his fingers without direction, but then his hand hovers there when Prompto removes his own. Prompto guides his fingers, and although his ears are inflamed with embarrassment, Noctis looks downright focused, not ashamed in the least.

 

It’s cute, in a way. Cute if he was doing something like, petting a cat, rather than vigorously fingering him.

 

 _Hah, get it, petting a cat…well, if I had one of those…_  Prompto’s own inner pun falls short, brain short-circuiting when those fingers find his prostate and he bucks and cries.

 

“Shit, no more, no more,” he cries, and Noctis yanks his fingers out with alarm, fearing the worst before Prompto reaches back to grab the hardness between Noctis’ legs. “Fuck me, god, please fuck me,” he says breathlessly, uncaring how pathetic he surely looks.

 

Noctis seems to not only recognize but share his desperation. He rolls them over and they both claw at his underwear, getting them off his legs. Prompto rucks his shirt up and feels out his chest, his collarbones, and down his stomach.

 

It’s hot and chaotic, like they’re discovering another body for the first time, or like they’re discovering their _own_  bodies for the first time, and maybe they are. It’s rushed and messy the way only teenagers and young adults do.

 

“Hurry,” Prompto begs. “Come on, fuckin’ give it to me, you can’t make me wait-“ _I’ve been waiting too long already,_ he’s too scared to say.

 

So Noctis indulges him.

 

The cheap motel bedsprings are a dead giveaway to anyone standing outside their door. Noctis vaguely hopes Ignis and Gladiolus didn’t get the room directly beside them, otherwise the rigorously knocking headboard would have them storming over here in no time.

 

That room must be empty, because no one in their right mind couldn’t _not_  hear them.

 

And Prompto, well, he’s so far gone. It’s no surprise to Noctis that he’s a yeller. He’s scrabbling for purchase, and Noctis throws one leg over his shoulder to find a deeper angle, because all he wants is more friction, more sound, to hear Prompto at his most uninhibited. He’s down to his most primal wants at this point, and to be discreet isn’t one of them.

 

The world be damned, this cruel place _owes_  them some damn quality time.

 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Prompto repeats like a mantra, hinting to Noctis he might be close. He’s got his free leg wrapped tight around his waist, the other bent with his knee almost at his ears as Noctis bends low over him. If the stretch is hurting his thigh, he’s not voicing it.

 

Noctis buries his face in Prompto’s neck and fucks him completely unrestrained. They’re a grunting mess of tangled limbs and body heat and it’s too much and not enough. Noctis presses himself closer still, like if he tried hard enough he could meld their skin together and then hey, _maybe_  this would last forever then.

 

Before that thought can make him too sad, Noctis throws his mind to the side and fucks with abandon instead. It’s better to lose himself than be lost inside himself.

 

Prompto’s chanting his name, and crying out other things that are totally comprehendible to Noctis. He can’t hear what Prompto says, but he can tell what he needs. He slings Prompto’s arms around his neck and kisses him, even if it’s more tongue and teeth than is called for.

 

Is that what it means to fuck your best friend, to already be so in tune before you get to this point, that you just know what they’ll need by instinct? Prompto’s looking at him steadily, and his face is red with strain, like it’s almost too much to be looking at his face like this while they’re fucking. But for whatever reason, Prompto wants to, _needs_  to see him, and Noctis realizes he needs to see him to.

 

Hands resting on either side of his head, cupping his face while his hips work tirelessly. Noctis wonders if they’re both frightened of this being as fleeting as it feels.

 

There’s no way this could last forever, not with the kind of life Noctis was predestined to lead. It was his birthright to lose control over his life. And it increasingly feels, like that birthright is including this moment right here as well. There’s his kingdom, and Luna, and all the responsibility he’ll have once they reach their destination.

 

Prompto bites his lip and tears are gathering in the corners of his eyes. Whether it’s from the sheer amount of stimulation he’s feeling or if he’s thinking the same thing, Noctis can’t bear to see it.

 

Because wherever Noctis’ path may lead him, there won’t be a place for Prompto.

 

Prompto was always easier to move to tears than anyone Noctis knew. He cradles his head against the hollow his neck and fucks into him sweetly, desperately. “Your place is right here,” he says shakily, “Right here Prompto. Right now.”

 

Prompto nods against him and his body trembles all over.

 

Their climax is rough. Prompto shakes and bucks under him, throwing a hand down and grabbing himself desperately, but doesn’t even need to stroke before he comes. He seizes brutally tight around Noctis and his lower body quakes with the effort of thrusting into him, shoulders shaking and Prompto just _wrecks_  him.

 

He nearly passes out right there on top of him, but he falls onto his elbows, body exhausted and happily ready to give out. He _does_  let himself flop down on Prompto then, relishing his little grunt. Prompto’s chest heaves under him, pale skin flushed all over, freckles standing out wherever Noctis can see them. They’re sticky and the air between them is uncomfortably humid, but Noctis just can’t move.

 

They’re dangerously close to falling asleep like that, before Prompto grunts and pinches his side.

 

“Dude, get off me,” he says, voice raspy after screaming his head off. “You just stuffed me like a fuckin’ éclair. Let me go to the bathroom.”

 

Noctis bursts into unexpected laughter, rolling off him lazily. “Prom, _gross.”_

 

“No,” Prompto says as he stands up on shaky legs, grimacing when he feels a thick, lukewarm glob slide down his inner thigh. “No, _this_  is gross. Why don’t I keep condoms…”

 

Noctis, the brat, is too satisfied with himself to care, chuckling at Prompto’s wrecked, sloppy state.

 

“Fucked is a good look on you,” he says from his cozy spot on the bed.

 

“Oh, seriously,” Prompto says, despite the smile tugging at his mouth, “fuck you Noct.” He waddles comically into the bathroom and complains loudly for Noctis to hear as he struggles to get as much spunk out of his ass as he can.

 

It’s a good fifteen minutes minimum before he comes back, looking less than pleased. Noctis is still grinning, high off his afterglow.

 

“Next time,” Prompto says, “we’re getting condoms. Or you’re the one taking a load up the ass. I seriously forgot how inconvenient that is.”

 

Noctis chuffs, and proceeds to begin stealing the blankets as expected. “Or next time, I could just, you know-“ He has the decency to flush. “Come _on_  you.”

 

“Wow, Noct,” Prompto laughs, coming out a little maniacal, because that thought unwittingly arouses him.

 

“Oh shut up,” Noctis says, shoving at his face, and they both fall into a giggling fit, high on endorphins. Their laughter fades out eventually, and Noctis sighs.

 

“So, a next time, huh?”

 

Prompto’s skin runs red up to his ears, and he stares steadfast down at the sheets, burying half his face in his pillow. “It was just- I mean yeah. It was pretty good, right? So if you wanna…”

 

Noctis’ heart aches for Prompto, wondering how he can still be so uncertain even after all this.

 

He shuffles forward, pressing his kiss-swollen lips to Prompto’s damp forehead.

 

“It’s crazy you even gotta ask.”

 

Prompto grins again, cheeks pushing up to his eyes. Noctis is filled with happiness that overwhelms, tinged bittersweet knowing this won’t be lasting, when making Prompto smile like that forever is all he wants at the moment.

 

“So…what do you think we are now?” Prompto asks. His fingers are tracing lazy shapes against Noctis’ cheekbone, lulling him into a gradually deepening drowsiness.

 

“Dunno,” he says, words slurred with sleep and post-coital bliss. “But I don’t really think we’re different from where we were before. You know? Kinda feels like,” he puts his hand over Prompto’s sagging into sleep, “-we were always like this.”

 

Prompto releases a breath like he’s relieved.

 

“Same here,” he says. “It’s something I don’t really get but…” He shrugs, and plops his head against his pillow and shuts his eyes. “Fuck it. Nobody else would get it anyway.”

 

Noctis smiles in his sleep. “We’ve got no name, Prom.”

 

Prompto is on the cusp of sleep, groggily slurring out, “Like the sound of that…it’s…artistic, don’tcha think..”

 

\--

 

“Hey Ignis…”

 

“Hm?”

 

“This morning, shortly after we left…the picture, and everything else. What the hell?”

 

“Agreed. It’s definitely odd.”

 

“You don’t think there’s…you know.”

 

“I honestly can’t say.”

 

“You wonder if there’s something going on there? With those two?”

 

“Who knows. Whatever it is, I doubt we could explain it. Those simpletons probably couldn’t explain it themselves.”

 

“Hm. Kinda like us then?”

 

“Oh, don’t _even_  get me started, Gladio.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy my first ever Final Fantasy contribution! These guys man...just can't get enough of em.
> 
> Comments are much appreciated. <3


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